In This Together
by VulcanCheesecake
Summary: Kirk/Chekov. They get captured by the Romulans and tortured. Theres something between them, but they're pushed to the limit. Can get through it, together? Angst, hurt/comfort, and plenty of manlove!


Pavel Chekov swam back to his senses, coughing as dust went in his mouth as he was shoved roughly to the floor of a very dark, small room. The chink of blinding yellow light was abruptly extinguished as his captor slammed the door, leaving a muffled glow at the top of the closed door, which was evidently a window. So he was in a cell, it seemed. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, he could make out another cell beyond his, separated by bars that had no gap between the ceiling and floor, but quite wide gaps in between, not big enough for anyone to squeeze through, not even a small 19-year-old like himself, but wide enough to fit say, an arm through. Slumped against these bars was someone else, wearing the same colour shirt as Chekov. Oh no. Oh _no_. The captain was here too? Chekov's head was fuzzy with the drug he had been given to knock him out before being dragged to this dank cell, so he wouldn't see where he was and remember it. He and the captain had beamed down to negotiate with the Romulans who were slowly taking over a desert planet with colonies of Terran nomads living on it, and threatening to enter the neutral zone. Well, the captain was negotiating. He was there to take notes, because he had been on hand at the time. It turned out that the Romulans did _not_ want to negotiate a peace treaty, they were fine dictating where they were, thank you very much, and just wanted a couple of hostages to ensure their power. They had a 'Starship captain and his little bitch' as the leader, who said his name was Hannibal, had so elegantly described them, to bargain with. Or just keep. Chekov felt little tingles of fear run up and down his spine. They were obviously somewhere hidden now, and it would be a while before anyone back on the Enterprise would think something was amiss. And he had seen Romulans in action. Merciless at the best of times, but angered and insulted? He shivered. Jim should never have broken Shinzon's (Hannibal's right hand man) nose. He should never have followed suit and kicked the Romulan holding him in the shins. They had been stunned and drugged anyway. He mentally shook himself; this was no time to be afraid. He had important things to think about, and fear would not help him.

He inched over to the bars, and was about to shake his captain to see if he was all right, when the door opened again. Shinzon stood there, face now clean of blood, but with cotton pads up each nostril to hold the shattered cartilage in place. "As you can see, your so called _captain_, broke my nose." He growled in his menacing voice. "I want some revenge. And I'm going to have _you,_ because hurting Kirk would be too easy." With that, Pavel was yanked to his feet when Shinzon pulled one arm, twisting it, stretching the protesting muscle to a painful, almost breaking point. Chekov had to bite his lip, but no sound escaped him. The Romulan raised one eyebrow. "Don't try to be noble, little boy," he spat.

"I am _not,_ a little boy," Pavel tried to sound defiant back, but his voice paled into insignificance, not doing him any favours in backing his argument. "I am a legal adult." Shinzon just laughed, and dug the pointed toe of his boot swiftly into the back of Chekov's knee, bringing him to the ground, hard. With the wind knocked out of him, Pavel was defenceless, and his retorts earned him merciless kicking in the stomach, chest and even face, as he desperately tried to get away from the onslaught. He felt a bruise erupt on his cheek, as a particularly well-aimed and painful kick landed there, jarring his teeth. He bit his lip so hard it bled, and only let out a strange, strangled whimper that he tried to swallow down when Shinzon kicked between his legs. It was all it took to make Jim Kirk realise he was not alone in here, and see what was happening to Pavel, and it was at least a little of the reaction Shinzon had been waiting for; he gave up with one last kick to Chekov's stomach that doubled him up, coughing, before dragging him up by his thick hair. "That's just my revenge," the Romulan sneered. "You wait until we actually start hurting you. And _experimenting_. We need to know how far we can take you humans without breaking you, and test our new _technology_." And with that, he was gone, leaving Chekov to stumble back on to the floor, scrubbing at his watering eyes, and split lip with the back of his hand.

"Hey, Chekov." The captain's urgent whisper brought Pavel back to his senses. He limped over to the bars, and knelt beside them as the captain was doing. "Are you all right? I didn't see much of what that war-bastard did to you, but what he _did _was..." he swallowed. "Totally _wrong._" Jim was seething. How _dare _the Romulans hurt Chekov like that? Even they knew he was innocent, had only been dragged into this by Jim. It was his fault. "I'm sorry, Pavel. I'm so sorry you had to come into this." He added as an afterthought, reaching through the bars that separated them to comfort as best they could; the young ensign was shaking. He managed to find a hand to squeeze reassuringly in the semi-darkness. Cold, smaller fingers wrapped around Jim's like it was the last thing on earth. And to them, right now, it was. "Soon," Jim promised. "Spock will start looking for us soon. You know Mr. Spock, he never fails," he went on, convincing himself as much as Chekov, who just nodded, accepting what he was saying because it was all he had. Together, they talked about anything and everything, to keep their minds off what might happen to them. Chekov was still shy, as always, but started to respond to Jim's endless questions, and they were now on first name terms. Jim had to admit though, the kid had guts. Not _once _did he complain. Not _once _did he voice his fear. It was only because Chekov didn't that Jim kept a hold on his own tongue. Sometime, deep in the reaches of night, Chekov went quiet, and his hand gently slipped from Jim's as he fell asleep. Jim smiled at the young face that was handsome as well as pretty, and still retained part of childhood, before getting as comfortable as he could on the stone floor, and sleeping himself.

They were both kicked roughly awake by nameless Romulans while Shinzon stood at the doorway. "Good morning boys. I thought we might start today with some…information." He teased. Chekov gritted his teeth. "We don't have anything you don't already know!"

"Oh, about Starfleet, no. You won't tell us anything new about your ship. No rather, I want some information about _you_. I'm going to find out your deepest, darkest secrets. They'll be useful for the rest of the fun we have planned." Shinzon replied, a light airy lilt to his voice as if he was giving them the fun. Chekov tensed; he had a secret. Nobody could ever know. He was wrong, he was dirty, he was bad. And they were going to find out. He silently prayed for Spock to arrive, or for Jim to do something without revealing any fear. He didn't want to give _any _satisfaction to his captors, but it was in vain. He was effortlessly dragged away from his cell, blindfolded outside the entrance, despite his struggles. Pavel was pushed to his feet, and heavy cuffs were bound to his wrists as he was marched along what seemed like endless corridors, until he was stopped, and his arms were raised up and chained to the ceiling. His feet were on the floor, but shackles just as heavy as the ones around his wrists, were snapped tightly round his ankles, digging in. The blindfold was torn off his face, long nails scraping his cheek, and he was left blinking in the sudden bright light. Shinzon stood in front of him, a malicious smirk on his face. "You won't be needing this," he grinned, tugging at Pavel's shirt, summoning a guard who ripped the back with the knife they all carried. Shinzon tore the shirt off, and threw it into the corner of the room, laughing as a shiver ran through Chekov at his sudden exposure. The Romulan stepped still closer, teasing his nails up and down Chekov's bare skin, making the young ensign twitch. Pavel knew he couldn't very well start whimpering and begging them to stop yet; it didn't even hurt. But it was still shameful, still uncomfortable, because some far away corner of himself was actually _enjoying _the feeling, only wishing that it were someone else that was doing this to him. Chekov didn't know much about Romulans, but one of the reasons he tried his best to block that voice off was because he thought they might be touch-telepaths, too. They _did _look very much like Vulcans to him, so what was to say they didn't have the same traits?

"Enough of this," Shinzon announced to the room; growing impatient at his own teasing. "Bring me the conductors," he snapped, a wicked grin on his face. His orders were quickly obeyed, and Chekov swallowed nervously as a generator with thin sheets of metal attached on wires was wheeled in. One of the pads was placed in the middle of his chest, and Pavel shivered again at the icy touch of it. The whole room waited, but nobody pressed any buttons. Yet.

"Tell me something about yourself, little Chekov," Shinzon said innocently, as if they were friends who had just met. Chekov shot what he hoped was a withering look at the Romulan. "I will tell you nothing _Romulan," _he spat.

"Oh, tut tut, Pavel. Bravery will get you nowhere in this place. Now, let's go over what we already know. Your name is Pavel Chekov, and you were born in…Leningrad? Ah yes, Earth's Russia. You are 19 years of age, Earth years, and you serve as an Ensign on the U.S.S. Enterprise. A highly efficient ship if I may be so bold. But that's nothing we can use against you. Now, our cousin Vulcans may be skilled in the art of touch-telepathy, but unfortunately, the Romulans are lesser able to do that. However, I managed to pick up something from you, little Chekov." His innocent smile vanished, and was replaced with malice. "You're hiding something. Something that you don't want anyone to find out. You're _ashamed. _Tell me what it is." The Romulan teased

"No!" Pavel said, defiantly. Shinzon's face didn't change, but he gave an almost imperceptible signal to the guard next to the generator, who idly flicked a switch. Pain was suddenly worming its way through Chekov's body, permeating every bone, every muscle as the electricity was applied, jarring his nerves. Pavel resisted the sounds inside him, fighting to get out. Just as suddenly, it was gone. Chekov wanted nothing more than to lie down and curl up; the only things holding him up were his chained wrists.

"_Now _will you tell me?" Shinzon crooned. Pavel shook his head; still not trusting himself to open his mouth. He heard shouts from across the corridor, recognising the voice as his captain's, and he felt more hopeless than ever. The Romulan gave a satisfied smile, and nodded at the guard again. Electricity ran through Pavel again. His skin felt like it was on fire, as the metal of the chains heated up and scorched it. He was struggling for breath now, drowning in the pain. Through fading vision, he saw the guard make to turn off the generator again, but Shinzon stopped him. Chekov couldn't bite his lip any more and a scream bubbled up from him. He cried out in pain, in humiliation. "I'm…I'm…I like _men!_" Shinzon flicked off the switch, leaving Chekov with an ache in his body that he would feel for a long time. "Now that wasn't so hard was it? _That's _what you're hiding. I think we can do a lot with that." Shinzon's tone was light and airy, and changed in a moment. "You little _whore. _You dirty, wrong, screwed up little boy. What will your parents say when we broadcast it to the solar system?"

"D-don't tell anybody!" Chekov squeaked, worried. What _would _people say? His body still shook after the shocks, and Shinzon said lazily "Let him down and take him back."

Someone undid the chains attached to the ceiling, but the heavy shackles remained on Pavel's abused wrists. His feet were detached, and he fell to his knees, only to be dragged up again, barely supporting his own weight as he was led to his cell, again blindfolded. He hit the floor once inside, ripping off his blindfold and staying still, so as not to aggravate any of his wounds, internally or externally. He closed his eyes and imagined he was back in his quarters on the Enterprise. It worked for a while, and made him drowsy, letting him rest until he was woken again by Jim being pushed back into his cell. He could still stand, but leant against the bars for support, looking at Chekov on the floor.

Pavel noticed, and found he could still stand too. He crossed over to the bars, reaching for Jim's hand again, still ashamed at his revealed secret, but in too much pain to care very much about that right now. "Did they do it to you, too?" Jim whispered. "Shocked you to get your secrets?" Pavel nodded; afraid that Jim would ask what they got out of him. But his captain was more sensitive than that.

"When will the others get here?" Chekov asked, fear creeping in further at being left here. He shivered in the freezing air; still shirtless, and tightened his grip on Jim's hand.

"Soon. Soon," the captain soothed.

It wasn't the Enterprise crew that barged into Jim's cell though. It was another Romulan, holding a small red box with short spikes poking out from one side. "This is what we're eager to test," he said, not bothering to hide the sadistic glee in his voice.

"What is it?" Kirk asked, tentatively.

"You'll see," the Romulan smirked, lunging forwards and pressing the spikes into the base of Jim's neck. Jim felt a sharp sting for a moment, digging deeper as the spikes curled around his spinal chord, then nothing more. He was puzzled, even more so when Shinzon stepped into the cell again, holding a small box.

"What the hell did you just do?" Jim asked, more firmly, unease growing now. Shinzon just smiled wickedly, motioning for the guard to bring Chekov in from the cell next door. The look in the younger man's eyes mirrored Jim's own. Nerves and confusion waged war in those glassy brown orbs. Shinzon flicked a switch on the wall, bathing them all in a clinical, blindingly white light.

"There now, we can see a bit better," he purred, obvious enjoyment still tainting his words. Both men were still confused, until Shinzon pressed a button on his box and Jim's arm involuntarily jerked, effectively hitting Chekov in the face. The look on Jim's face turned to one of horror.

"Oh, hell, I'm so sorry Pavel," he said to the stunned young ensign.

"It wasn't your fault." He squeaked back. But the fear gnawing at him dug a little deeper. They had a way to control people, and the perfect subjects to test it on. He didn't let himself think about what the spiteful Romulans might do. Shinzon laughed then, cold and cruel, flicking more switches so Jim bruised Pavel's eye, kicked him to the ground and then in the stomach. It hurt Pavel, more than if Shinzon had done this, especially with the pain of the electricity still haunting him. He knew Jim had no control over it, and he could tell how much this was affecting Jim, hurting his friend, but it was hard not to blame him. After a while, Shinzon got bored with the assault, and let Jim finally stop. He left with another laugh and a warning promise of things to come, slamming the lights off, and the heavy door shut behind him, but leaving both of them in the same cell.

Jim knelt beside Pavel as soon as Shinzon was gone, and attempted to look at his bruised face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question; he obviously wasn't, neither of them were, but needing something to say.

"I am…not dead, Jim," Chekov countered hesitantly. "But I'm afraid," he whispered, embarrassed to admit it, but needing to. Jim ran fingers through Pavel's sandy reddish-brown hair, smoothing it back into place.

"So am I," he whispered back, taking the opportunity to pull the younger man into him, seeing as there were no longer bars in the way, to comfort him. Chekov was a little surprised at first, but grateful, and leaned into Jim like he could take all of this away. "Do…do you want to know the secret they got out of me?" Pavel whispered into the darkness, feeling Jim had to know; there was something between them that Pavel thought he felt, though hardly daring to hope and nervous of rejection on repeating it.

"If it makes you feel better,"

"They…I…" he took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm uh…gay," he finally whispered, hanging his head in shame. "I understand if you completely…change your opinions on me and…dismiss me," Chekov fought out. Jim held him a little tighter, sensing his shame, though he was no Vulcan. "Why would I? There's nothing wrong with it…the Romulans twist things…people sometimes have prejudices," he murmured, reflecting back on some of them he'd encountered. Especially from his stepfather, who told him being gay was wrong, but still did those things to him. Jim mentally shook himself; the Romulans had forced him to dwell on that enough, he had no intention of doing so when not being shocked with electricity. Pavel slowly realised what Jim was saying, as he listened.

"Yo...you too?" Jim nodded, Chekov breathing a sigh of relief that he began to register he was not alone. Pavel began to wish that the circumstances were different, maybe they could...no. He was kidding himself. Neither of them said anything; still reeling from the treatment they had received from Shinzon and his band of minions, until Chekov finally fell asleep again, laying his head on Jim's shoulder. Jim felt himself wishing the same things as Pavel, convinced that the younger Ensign was not interested, but continued to stroke the sleeping teen's hair and, unbeknownst to Chekov, gently kissing the soft mop.


End file.
